The Light at the End of the Tunnel
by MagicaeArtiumLaudator
Summary: McGonagall's POV on the end of the war and just afterwards. Canon up until after the actual book ends. Bit of fluff towards the end!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Basically a fic from McGonagall's POV about the end of the war and the lead-up to it. It's my first fic so sorry if it's not very good! Please review and if there's stuff you don't like, tell me about it so I can make the next chapter better :D Rated T just to be safe for when the battle starts. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I'm glad I don't. It wouldn't be as magical if I saw it as a business. **

Minerva McGonagall was troubled. She could not explain exactly why she felt more anxious this evening than every other (general worry was omnipresent these days; with Snape as Headmaster and the Carrows as his deputies, she spent most of her time trying to make sure her students remained well, or at least alive), but there was something other than that. A kind of ominous feeling. Giving up on the essays she was marking and sighing, she got up from her desk and moved to the window. It was a beautiful view; the Hogwarts grounds stretched far ahead of her and the lake glistened in the sunset. She opened it and breathed in the balmy air of early summer, taking consolation from the fact that soon it would be the summer holidays and she would be able to throw herself fully into the activities of the order. It was very frustrating, not being able to resist – she had considered it many a time during hasty, whispered discussions with Filius and her other loyal colleagues, and during seemingly endless sleepless nights. But resistance would be stupid – the rest of the Order who didn't have responsibilities at Hogwarts were still doing that; her job was to try to ensure the safety of the school. She knew very well that if she rebelled she would risk being killed – she was a very powerful witch, and quite high up on Voldemort's extensive hit list. As her eyes fell upon Dumbledore's tomb, she thought back to the end of the previous academic year, and the events since.

Albus' death had hit her hard, she had to admit. Minerva prided herself upon her composure and ability to mask her emotions, mostly pushing problems to the back of her mind when they arose. But losing Albus had left her devastated, and she had spent many hours crying for her best friend. They had never been lovers, as had been rumoured, nor had ever wanted to be – but their shared love of teaching and transfiguration and their shared qualities of loyalty, stubbornness and wisdom, had made them very close friends. However there had not been too much time for grieving – she had had to organise his funeral, send the students all safely back home and, with the rest of the staff, begin to prepare the school for the next academic year, whilst still remaining an active member of the Order, attending meetings and contributing to plans. She thought vaguely about the Headship… She had been outraged to be shunted aside for the man who had killed the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts had ever had, the greatest man she had ever known. Snape and the Carrows had ruined Hogwarts. An unexpected lump appeared in her throat as she recalled with a shudder the screams of children being tortured… She remembered once, early on in the year, going with Poppy into the Gryffindor common room, healing wounds and providing potions to those who had been put in detention. She also remembered the staff meeting the next week, when Snape had told them in no uncertain terms that as long as students were not in danger of dying, they must not be helped, as a part of their punishment. It broke her heart to see their cuts and bruises, to see the bags under their eyes, see them walking around with hunched shoulders, trying not to do anything to incur the wrath of the Carrows. The whole year had been spent by her and teachers such as Filius and Pomona trying to maintain a level of normality in their lessons, taking each day as it came and struggling on despite the increasing weight of the burdens upon their shoulders. One group of students had kept their hopes up, as well as their anxiety levels, by standing up to the Carrows and re-enforcing the message of fighting for good, but they were no longer active. Luna Lovegood had been taken away, which had worried Minerva, although she had not known her, being head of a different house. Ginny Weasley had gone into hiding with her family, Minerva assumed. She was sure Molly would keep her brood safe, and was actually quite pleased that Ginny was now with them instead of risking her safety at Hogwarts. Neville Longbottom had disappeared off the face of the earth – 'idiot boy, suddenly becoming so bold when times were most dangerous,' she thought with a hint of sadness, but mainly pride. And there were three others, who had not been there at all this year, whom she had not seen since the end of their sixth year. Ron and Hermione had, of course, gone with Harry to accomplish whatever it was Dumbledore had left him to do... As usual, when she thought of Harry, Minerva's stomach did a somersault and her eyes filled with tears – she had been very close to his mother and father and had a great deal of affection for the boy. She could not think of him without a surge of near-panic.

But no, it would not do to think too much about these things. Hogwarts had never been so out of sorts; it was almost as though the castle itself were hurting as she tried to protect her values and inhabitants. For now, Minerva would focus her attention on this feeling she had. She thought it felt a bit like a sixth sense, and wondered if it could be something to do with the fact she was an animagus – after all, they say animals can sense the threat of danger. Instinct was telling her that something was coming, something would happen soon. Uneasily she thought that she could see the end of the tunnel, but did not know whether there was light there. If there was a fight, she would of course throw herself into battle with all her talents and vigour, but she had to admit that she was not exactly young anymore. 'Well, they do say that cats have nine lives,' she tried to reassure herself, but then realised that she'd probably already used far more than 9 and resolved to ignore that expression in the future. In the meantime, however, she would re-arrange her face into a mask, scrape her hair tighter back into its bun, and go down to dinner, the embodiment of austere calm and dignity.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Many thanks go to MinnieKat for reviewing the first chapter, I know it's only been up for a day but I'm hoping after this one I'll get some more reviews, please pretty please! They do brighten my day. Going on holiday until Monday from tomorrow so the next chapter won't be up quite as quickly, but I hope to have it written while I'm away! **

**I don't own Harry Potter, in case you hadn't guessed. **

Minerva marched purposefully towards the Great Hall. She was not in any haste to get to this meal, and would have avoided it altogether if it weren't for the fact that every teacher and student was now required to show their face at dinner, but she felt she must not let her strictness slip –if she appeared at all listless, her students would pick up on it and lose a little bit more hope. The school was unpleasantly reminiscent of a prison these days; the compulsory attendance of meals (excused by Snape as "a good diet is essential to the health and happiness of a child, therefore as Headmaster I shall be ensuring that all students eat a good meal three times a day") was not the only extra security measure that had been taken – Heads of Houses were required to take a register in the common room each night, and students had to sign in and out of places such as the library and the hospital wing. Hogwarts had always had rules, they were necessary, but this complete mistrust of the students and desire to know where in the school they were at all times was, in Minerva's opinion, an over the top, unwelcome change. She intended to remain as she always had, and as long as some people continued to do that, there was still some Hogwarts left.

Entering the great hall, Minerva allowed her eyes to sweep the room, focusing in particular on her Gryffindors, checking that all was well. Everyone was quieter than usual; spirits had been low all year and the fact that it was almost exam time had made people even more tired and less likely to be chatting. As she approached the staff table, she noticed that Snape was sitting in between his two deputies, as always, but rather than their usual self-satisfied sneering and smirking, the three were talking in low voices and seemed annoyed by the slight disturbance caused by Minerva taking her seat between Madam Pomfrey and Alecto.

"Alecto," Minerva greeted curtly. She would not let her manners slip.

"Shut up," snapped Alecto in reply, turning back to her brother and Snape. Minerva raised an eyebrow and turned to Poppy, who answered her unspoken question immediately.

"They've been like that for the last twenty minutes," she whispered, "I couldn't catch quite what they're saying but they mentioned Gringotts and something about You Know Who being very angry. Why are you so late, anyway?" she added, fixing Minerva with a stern look.

"Oh, I lost track of time marking," she replied vaguely, more interested in what Snape and the Carrows were saying. Poppy seemed to realise that engaging her in further conversation would be pointless, and turned instead to talk to Pomona Sprout, leaving Minerva free to eavesdrop while pretending to be concentrating on her steak. She was slightly more successful than Poppy had been, given that she was sitting closer and had very acute hearing, thanks to long hours she had spent in the form of a cat.

"… Rather them than me," Amycus was saying, with the half-scared, half-smug look of a child watching somebody else being told off. "What was in the vault that concerned the Dark Lord, anyway? Wouldn't have thought he'd be so angry on Bellatrix's behalf…"

"I do not know," replied Snape, looking worried, "though he is not only furious but very agitated that it has gone missing. This bodes ill; I fear we may all suffer his wrath if he does not recover it."

At this point Minerva realised she had had her fork halfway to her mouth for about a minute. Hastily gulping down her forkful, she toyed with her vegetables, thinking about what she had just heard. Clearly Bellatrix's vault at Gringotts had been broken into… 'Worrying within itself,' she thought, wondering if Gringotts' security was not as tight as it used to be. However, Snape's words rang in her head… 'This bodes ill'… It was odd that the evening she had instinctively felt that something was happening, this major break-in had occurred. What worried Minerva the most was the fact that the feeling had not yet left her; in fact she thought this might only be the tip of the iceberg.

Deciding that she couldn't eat any more and wanting to escape to her office with her thoughts, she surreptitiously Vanished the food from her plate, murmured an excuse to Poppy and left, this time allowing herself to wander up the stairs, as everyone was still at dinner.

When Minerva entered her office, she found herself glancing towards the empty space on a shelf where the Quidditch cup had sat for so long. Needless to say, Slytherin had won this year, due to the strange coincidence that other Houses' players seemed to be in detention with the Carrows a lot during training sessions. Minerva sighed, thinking of the injustice of it all. Children being unished for wanting to play Quidditch... It was sick. She thought of another player who had been unable to play for a while, unfairly. 'I did warn him not to lose his temper with Dolores Umbridge,' she thought, slightly frustrated with his hot-headedness, but mainly fondly. And as Minerva sat at her desk, she allowed herself to think of Harry for more than a few seconds for the first time in months. She wondered where he was now… She felt sure that he was still alive, knowing that Voldemort would want everyone to know in order to squash their morale if he were dead. Minerva knew that Harry was tough; he'd suffered an abusive childhood, which she still felt guilty about not trying harder to save him from. He'd suffered the loss of many people close to him, he'd faced horrific violence and been an inch from death more times than she cared to count, and yet through all of it he'd remained loving, faithful and brave. 'He has his mother's personality,' Minerva thought, smiling through her tears, 'and he also has his friends,' she reminded herself firmly. Ron and Hermione would be a great help and comfort to Harry, as they had always been, through whatever mission he was doing, she was sure of it. Hermione was very clever, she mused – Minerva felt lucky to have been her Head of House, and the corners of her mouth twitched as she remembered Filius' frequent complaints that the Sorting Hat must have got confused. With a start, she realised that dinner had been over for a while now and it was time for her to go and register her Gryffindors.

Minerva immediately grew suspicious again as she strode into the Gryffindor common room, feeling as if people knew something she didn't, much as when she entered the Great Hall for dinner. The atmosphere had been curious, buzzing with gossip, when she entered; they had fallen silent slightly too quickly, and she noted that a few seemed to be reading books upside down about subjects they didn't do, as if they had simply grabbed the closest thing to hand and pretended to be absorbed in it as opposed to being seen talking.

"Really now," Minerva exclaimed, looking round the common room, "I wasn't born yesterday. Will somebody please tell me why you are all gossiping like it's a meeting of the Witches' Institute?"

Nobody said anything for a few seconds, all glancing to their neighbour as if saying, 'you tell her.' Then Colin Creevey stepped forward, his eyes shining with excitement and something else, which Minerva, slightly bewildered, identified as apprehension.

"Professor, everyone's saying that… That…" He faltered, looking around the room for encouragement.

"That what, Mr Creevey?" McGonagall prompted, trying to be gentle but not managing to conceal her impatience.

"That-Harry-Potter-Ron-Weasley-and-Hermione-Granger-broke-into-Gringotts-and-escaped-on-a-dragon" Colin finished, all in one breath.

"What nonsense!" Minerva scoffed, although she felt her face whiten and her hands shook a little, "I suggest you all stop spreading rumours and concentrate on your upcoming exams." She added, glaring around the room in typical McGonagall fashion. Colin Creevey scuttled nervously back to his seat, and she felt a bit guilty.

"Thank you for telling me," she said more kindly, "but I really do think it sounds a very unlikely story, and I'm sure I would have heard about it from the staff if it were true." She wondered at this point whom she was trying to reassure, them or herself. She didn't like to think the danger Harry, Ron and Hermione would be in if it were true that they had stolen from Bellatrix's vault.

After quickly registering the students and bidding them goodnight, Minerva bustled from the portrait hole and returned to her office. It was only 8 o clock, but she did not feel she could get any more work done tonight, and instead poured herself a Firewhiskey and settled down on the sofa in her quarters, back to thinking about Harry. As she sipped her drink, a sudden memory came to her of words Dumbledore had uttered after he thought she had left on Halloween 1981.

'Good luck, Harry Potter' he had said, gazing towards the bundle of blankets on the doorstep of number 4, Privet Drive. 'If this absurd rumour is true', she thought uneasily, 'he'll need that now, more than ever.'


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Sorry it took so much longer to get the third chapter up! I didn't have much time for writing while I was away and fell asleep halfway through this while trying to write it last night. Anyway, here it is; it's a lot longer than the first two chapters, so enjoy! Also many thanks for the reviews, they're quickly becoming like chocolate to me – i.e. one of my favourite things! **

**I wouldn't be writing this if I owned Harry Potter.**

"URGH," huffed Minerva in frustration, sitting up and waving her wand at the lamps on the walls of her bedroom. She had only been in bed for about an hour, but already knew that she wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. She felt restless, filled with the impatient energy of a much younger woman, a need to be doing something. With an annoyed sigh, she got out of bed and threw on her dressing gown, taking slight comfort from that warm, homely feeling that only one's favourite old dressing gown can bring. She would patrol the corridors until she felt tired; that would also serve the purpose of putting her mind at rest when she saw for herself that nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

And so she patrolled. Everything seemed quiet… She stopped for a quick chat with Nearly-Headless Nick and shooed Mrs Norris away – all of the things she did most of her nights on duty. However, after about a quarter of an hour, Minerva heard shouting coming from a few corridors away. Following the noise, she found Amycus Carrow shouting at the door to the Ravenclaw common room.

"Alecto? _Alecto? _Are you there? Have you got him? Open the door!"

Minerva was puzzled; she knew that Alecto had been let into the Ravenclaw common room earlier but had assumed that it was to shout at and generally intimidate the members of Ravenclaw house, as a punishment for earning too many house points. It wouldn't have been the first time. It was odd that she was still in there though, and even odder that she wasn't letting her brother in. While Minerva was wondering whether or not to intervene, Amycus made her decision for her – pounding the door like a battering ram, he yelled, 'ALECTO! If he comes and we haven't got Potter – d'you want to go the same way as the Malfoys? ANSWER ME!"

Minerva's heart jumped into her throat at those words – '_got Potter?' – _but she swallowed and decided to deal with that later – for the moment, she needed to calm Amycus down before he destroyed something and/or woke everyone up.

"May I ask what you are doing, Professor Carrow?" she enquired, coldly polite and relieved to hear that her voice was a lot calmer and steadier than she felt.

"Trying – to – get – though this damned – door!" was the loud reply, followed by "Go and get Flitwick! Get him to open it, now!"

Minerva didn't take kindly to being ordered around but knew better than to confront him about this now – it was more important to find out why he was trying to break into the Ravenclaw common room and why he seemed to think that Alecto had apprehended Harry Potter.

"But isn't your sister in there?" she pressed on, trying to introduce some logic into the situation, "Didn't Professor Flitwick let her in, earlier this evening, at your urgent request? Perhaps she could open the door for you? Then you needn't wake up half the castle," she added, trying and failing to keep the obvious disdain out of her voice.

"She ain't answering, you old besom! _You _open it! Garn! Do it, now!" This was testing Minerva's patience far too much – bristling at being called an 'old besom' and downright furious about being ordered around in such a fashion, she nonetheless played along, although made her dissatisfaction clear.

"Certainly, if you wish it," she replied, as the nearest portraits, who were watching this exchange curiously, wondered how on earth Amycus hadn't turned into a block of ice from her tone.

Minerva tapped the knocker, wondering with some apprehension what she would see when she opened the door. She required but a moment to consider the question - 'Where do vanished objects go?' - living up to her namesake and not being the professor of transfiguration for nothing, she answered, "into non-being, which is to say, everything.'

Barely hearing the door's praise on her phrasing, Minerva hurried into the common room behind Amycus. Alecto lay on the floor. Bending down to examine her, Minerva ascertained that she'd been stunned. Having seen a few Ravenclaws run away as she and Amycus entered, Minerva thought that perhaps they had been feeling daring and had Stunned her themselves. It was not hard to believe – all the students hated her and they probably hadn't bargained on being caught out so soon.

Amycus was, apparently, thinking the same thing, although not feeling so indifferent towards his sister's plight. Minerva winced as he began shouting again – "What've they done, the little whelps? I'll Cruciate the lot of 'em till they tell me who did it – and what's the Dark Lord going to say? We haven't got him, and they've gorn and killed her!"

Minerva interrupted his hysterics, pointing out what to any competent human being would be obvious – "She's only Stunned, she'll be perfectly all right," _more's the pity_, she thought. However, Amycus was not finished yet and seemed determined to continue his tirade, shrieking, "No she bludgering well won't! Not after the Dark Lord gets hold of her! She's gorn and sent for him, I felt me Mark burn, and he thinks we've got Potter!"

Deciding that she could ignore this no more, Minerva finally got to what had been bothering her since the start of this episode – "Got Potter? What do you mean, 'got Potter'?" she asked, concern marring her calmness, her voice characteristically sharp.

"He told us Potter might try and get inside Ravenclaw Tower, and to send for him if we caught him!"

This was ridiculous… Minerva thought it highly unlikely that Harry would be foolhardy enough to re-enter Hogwarts, if by some miracle he found an unguarded way in, and even if he did, surely he would head for Gryffindor tower?

"Why would Harry Potter try to get inside Ravenclaw Tower? Potter belongs in my house!" She kicked herself slightly for the pride she knew had come across in her voice; it would not do for Amycus to know any of her few weaknesses, one of which was her students – and Harry in particular.

Amycus, however, did not seem to have noticed it – he was still very het up. "We was told he might come in here! I dunno why, do I?"

Although she still found it very hard to believe, Minerva couldn't help glancing round the room in case Harry was in here, but hiding. As she was doing so, Amycus was busy thinking of solutions for his own problems. "We can push it off on the kids," he was saying, "Yeah, that's what we'll do. We'll say Alecto was ambushed by the kids, them kids up there, and we'll say they forced her to press the Mark, and that's why he got a false alarm… he can punish them. Couple of kids more or less, what's the difference?"

Amycus seemed very pleased with this plan, but Minerva was completely distracted for a moment from her worry about Harry; this was despicable, and she could not continue to play along with him now that students were at stake. Trying not to shudder as she imagined how Voldemort would punish those poor, innocent children, she replied furiously, "Only the difference between truth and lies, courage and cowardice. A difference, in short, which you and your sister seem unable to appreciate. But let me make one thing very clear. You are not going to pass off your many ineptitudes on the students of Hogwarts. I shall not permit it."

"Excuse me?"

As Amycus moved forwards, Minerva knew she had gone too far, but also found she did not care. All the anger and revulsion she had felt towards him and his sister was welling up inside her. If she were a Basilisk, he would have died twenty times over from the look she gave him, making it plain that she found him disgusting and incredibly inferior.

"It's not a case of what _you'll _permit, Minerva McGonagall. Your time's over. It's us what's in charge here now, and you'll back me up or you'll pay the price." Amycus sneered, and then spat in her face.

It would have taken Minerva only a couple of seconds to master the urge to vomit upon feeling his spit on her (his breath had been bad enough when he had been practically nose to nose with her) and to draw her wand, which she now would do without second thought, but before she got the chance something happened that drove all thoughts of cursing him out of her mind.

She blinked rapidly, sure she was seeing things, as Harry Potter appeared out of thin air only metres away. His wand was raised, and she could feel his anger, even though it wasn't directed at her. He looked powerful, dangerous – Minerva could tell that he, although always mature for his age, had grown a lot in terms of personality and skill that year. She could tell he was in control, yet still her heart skipped a beat as Amycus turned around to face him upon his words - "'you shouldn't have done that".

What he did next shocked Minerva, but also made her very proud and incredibly grateful. For although hearing him say the word '_crucio_' was something she'd never have expected, and normally it was a curse she despised, she knew that Amycus deserved it and she could see Harry's skill as a wizard – not many wizards who didn't specialise in Dark Magic could pull that off, but pull it off Harry did. Amycus' pain would have been terrible to behold, had she had any kind of feeling to spare for the man, but as he crumpled to the floor Minerva was more interested in what Harry said next. He looked furious as he spat 'I see what Bellatrix meant. You need to really mean it."

Minerva's hand went to her chest as a pain streaked through it on hearing those words – a pain caused partly by seeing Harry angry enough to resort to such a spell and partly by how touched she was that he had sprung to her defense so readily, and so genuinely.

Much as she tried to steady herself and her voice, it took Minerva a few seconds longer than usual, and first she stuttered in a hoarse whisper – "Potter! Potter – you're here! What -? How -?" thinking briefly that this wouldn't get her anywhere, she made a stronger effort and managed to get out a sentence. "Potter, that was foolish!"

Harry looked at her defiantly, a look so endearingly familiar that she had seen so many times on his face, but there was something else in his eyes this time. She realised it was concern, and felt a rush of affection for him, which unfortunately brought back the stuttering. "Potter, I – that was very – very _gallant _of you – but don't you realise -?"

Didn't he realise what? Minerva didn't actually know what she was trying to say; that he was in grave danger? That attacking Amycus and, she now realised, Alecto would incur both Snape and Voldemort's wrath? She was spared having to specify though, for Harry interrupted her.

"Yeah, I do." She couldn't help noting with surprise and pride that he sounded very calm; he was used to being in danger and clearly he had prepared himself for this before entering Hogwarts. All thoughts of his level-headedness were banished from her mind, however, as she caught his next words – 'Professor McGonagall, Voldemort's on the way."

Before Minerva even had a chance to process this information fully she was once again forced to question whether she could trust her own eyes – for Luna Lovegood had also just emerged from nowhere, with a mild, "oh, are we allowed to say the name now?"

This was too much for Minerva; overcome by too many emotions, the most prominent of which were shock at the appearance of two missing students, relief that they were both alright and fear at what would happen to them next, she collapsed into an armchair, unconsciously clutching at her dressing gown for reassurance.

Harry had been pointing out to Luna that Voldemort knew where he was anyway, and was now eyeing Minerva with worry. She knew that it must be strange for him, having rarely seen her show weakness like this, but she was not getting any younger and the evening was rapidly becoming very dramatic. Still, her thoughts were of his wellbeing rather than hers, and as such she whispered, "You must flee. Now, Potter, as quickly as you can!" She did not like encouraging him to leave again, but he would surely be caught if he remained much longer…

Her thoughts were interrupted by his firm but gentle reply – "I can't. There's something I need to do. Professor, do you know where the diadem of Ravenclaw is?"

Minerva was completely taken aback by this question, and could not see its relevance to the matter at hand. Surely he did not think that a bit of extra wisdom could help him defeat Voldemort? He didn't need it; Minerva knew that at the young age of just seventeen, Harry was already much wiser than Voldemort.

"The d- diadem of Ravenclaw? Of course not – hasn't it been lost for centuries?" Minerva was beginning to annoy herself with this stuttering now, and she finally pulled herself together, sitting up straighter and adjusting her glasses slightly. She fixed Harry with a stern but worried look, saying, "Potter, it was madness, utter madness, for you to enter this castle -"

Yet she was once again interrupted. If the situation hadn't been so serious, she would have both sighed and laughed at the way Harry seemed to have the answer for everything, just like his mother and father.

"I had to," Harry was saying, now with a hint of desperation, "Professor, there's something hidden here that I'm supposed to find, and it _could _be the diadem – if I could just speak to Professor Flitwick -"

He broke off as all three of them looked towards Amycus, who was feebly stirring. Minerva, still fuming at the way he had been treating her students all year, like Harry, had no qualms about using an Unforgivable Curse against him. She swiftly stood up, pointing her wand quite steadily at Amycus and uttering a spell she disliked intensely – '_imperio'. _She did not care about the Carrows' situation, merely wished to keep them out of the way so she could turn her attention to more important matters. She made Amycus give her both of their wands, then lie down next to his sister. For good measure, just in case her Imperius Curse lifted (she was not, after all, a very experienced caster of it) and/or Alecto woke up, she conjured a rope which tied them both up.

Now feeling much less shaken and much more in control, she turned to Harry and said briskly, "Potter, if He Who Must Not Be Named does indeed know that you are here…" The rest of her sentence caught in her throat as she watched Harry stagger and grab Luna's shoulder with one hand, the other clutching his scar, gasping slightly with his eyes screwed up in pain.

"Potter, are you all right?" she asked, now past caring about how concerned she knew she must sound. To her relief, Harry opened his eyes at her words and his pain seemed to lessen.

"Time's running out, Voldemort's getting nearer. Professor, I'm acting on Dumbledore's orders, I must find what he wanted me to find! But we've got to get the students out while I'm searching the castle – it's me Voldemort wants, but he won't care about killing a few more or less, not now -"

Minerva was slightly curious as to what the 'not now' was leading on to, but her attention was caught mainly by the fact he was acting on Dumbledore's orders. She thought briefly of the rumours surrounding the prophecy that had been smashed while she had been in St Mungo's… Of all the evenings she knew that Harry had spent in Dumbledore's office… Of the way he had refused to tell her where the two of them had been and why the night Dumbledore had been killed… And suddenly, it all seemed to fit into place. She had been trying to deny to herself that there was a chance the prophecy could be true, partly because she hated Divination and partly because she did not want it to be true for Harry's sake. Yet as she looked at the man in front of her, as she thought of his whole life up until now, she realised that it was the sad, but obvious truth. Dumbledore had told him how to get rid of Voldemort, because it had to be Harry who did it. And even if she had guessed wrong, she trusted Albus Dumbledore and she trusted Harry - she was sure that Harry.. That both of them.. Would not ask this if it were not incredibly important.

"You're acting on _Dumbledore's _orders?" she found herself confirming. As she met Harry's eyes, she felt her courage increase tenfold, caused by a determination to help him. As it did, she felt her back straighten and her muscles stretch as she drew herself up, rather impressively and in typical McGonagall fashion, to her full height.

"We shall secure the school against He Who Must Not Be Named while you search for this – this object," she declared, feeling a lot more confident and mentally preparing herself for battle.

"Is that possible?" Harry sounded rather unsure and she almost smiled; his anxiety for the school when he himself was in so much danger was admirable. She felt a bit of humour enter her voice as she replied, "I think so. We teachers are rather good at magic, you know. I am sure we will be able to hold him off for a while if we all put our best efforts into it. Of course, something will have to be done about Professor Snape -"

"Let me -" Harry began, but Minerva was in control now and did not give him the chance to finish interrupting her, turning her attention instead to the next problem.

"-and if Hogwarts is about to enter a state of siege, with the Dark Lord at the gates, it would indeed be advisable to take as many innocent people out of the way as possible. With the Floo Network under observation and Apparition impossible within the grounds -"

"There's a way," Harry had interrupted her _again_, and Minerva marvelled at how times changed – she would certainly have docked house points by this point this time a year ago, but this time she didn't mind because this situation was urgent; she was interested in what he had to say and she knew it was important.

As he explained about the Hog's Head, Minerva felt increasingly doubtful. A tiny passage from one room to a little pub? It didn't sound the best evacuation process and her ingrained habit of trying to have everything done as quickly and neatly as possible, in an organised and calm fashion, was taking over as she tried to reason with him – "Potter, we're talking about hundreds of students -"

"I know, Professor, but if Voldemort and the Death Eaters are concentrating on the school boundaries they won't be interested in anyone who's Disapparating out of the Hog's Head."

Minerva had to admit that Harry had a point, and unable to think of a better solution, she gave in and agreed with him. Although she had already tied the Carrows up, she wanted to make completely sure that they would not be able to take any further part in the night's events, and so quickly and fairly effortlessly conjured a net to hold them in the air, out of the way and imprisoned.

She turned back to Harry and Luna and spoke in her usual imperious fashion: "Come. We must alert the other Heads of House. You'd better put that Cloak back on."

Thus, mustering her energy and courage and now with a clear mind, Minerva strode towards the door, Harry and Luna hurrying along in her wake. She sent three silver cats shooting out of the end of her wand to Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout and Horace Slughorn, wanting them to join her as quickly as possible. It was time, she thought grimly, to fight.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I apologise hugely for the delay in posting this chapter! I did a little one-shot in between chapter 3 and this because I didn't have enough time to sit down for a few hours and do this justice; however it is finally done! I'm going away again this weekend but still hope to get chapter 5 up more promptly. Thank you to all my reviewers, sorry I haven't had time to reply to your reviews but they do mean a lot to me and I'm trying to take your suggestions into account so please keep them going! L x**

As she marched along the corridors, Minerva felt full of adrenaline for the battle. Her earlier panic had evaporated; all traces of sleep, firewhiskey and shock had left her. She knew, deep down, that she had been waiting for this moment all year, and particularly all evening. And despite the near certainty that violence would ensue and lives would be lost, it felt good to finally be standing up for the school, which she felt she had let down this year.

Although all these thoughts were running through her head, Minerva McGonagall was not one to become distracted, and she listened carefully as they walked, checking that the only sounds she could her were her own movements and those of Harry and Luna behind her. And it was a good job she was – suddenly, she picked up the sound of a fourth pair of footsteps. She had a shrewd suspicion who it might be, but did not hesitate to raise her wand as she stopped dead in the corridor and asked, "who's there?"

"It is I."

_Good_, thought Minerva, _I can get him out of the way now so that we can assemble our troops in peace. _She eyed him carefully, noticing that he was not in his nightclothes – clearly he, too, had expected something to happen tonight.

"Where are the Carrows?"

She didn't want to answer this question, preferring instead the idea of cursing him on the spot, to get him back for the way he had treated the school the last year, for killing her best friend, for the way he had acted towards the Potters – she knew that he had called Lily a Mudblood while they were at school, she knew that he had led Voldemort to them and she knew how he had treated Harry for 6 years. Yet she maintained her composure, knowing that the moment to strike would present itself, and decided to feign ignorance.

"Wherever you told them to be, I expect, Severus."

She watched as his eyes searched the air around her, feeling rather satisfied at his discomfort and rather smug that Harry and Luna had managed to get into the school right under his nose.

"I was under the impression that Alecto had apprehended an intruder."

Continuing her pretence of not knowing anything about an intruder, Minerva carefully replied, "really? And what gave you that impression?"

She fought to keep back a derisive laugh as his left arm muscles seemed to spasm unconsciously and hoped that his Dark Mark was hurting him terribly. Feeling exhilarated that she could finally speak plainly to him, she did just that, her last two words dripping with sarcasm - "Oh but naturally, you Death Eaters have your own private means of communication. I forgot."

Minerva felt a grim satisfaction at his lack of reply to this, but it had not escaped her notice that he was still looking for Harry and that he was advancing, albeit very slowly, upon them. She had to be on her guard.

"I did not know it was your night to patrol the corridors, Minerva." He sneered. Minerva thought vaguely that if she had as little as a Knut for how often she'd wanted to wipe that sneer off his face she'd be able to crush him under all her riches. However, she forced herself to keep calm, and replied cautiously, not willing to start making up stories until she had to.

"You have some objection?"

"I wonder what could have brought you out of your bed at this late hour?" Minerva had to make a huge effort not to snort at this; she'd been out of bed at this hour catching students on night-time strolls, breaking up parties in the Gryffindor common room and generally patrolling more often than she'd been in bed at this time.

But she opted for the truth, or at least, some of it: "I thought I heard a disturbance."

"Really? But all seems calm."

Snape's eyes were boring into hers now; Minerva closed her mind to him, knowing what he was trying to do.

"Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? Because if you have, I must insist -"

She did not need to employ Occlumency this time; the moment had finally come to get rid of the slimy git, who was, quite frankly, wasting her time when she could be thinking up a battle plan and Harry could be off finding whatever it was he wanted to find.

Moving with the speed and agility of her Animagus form and completely ignoring the tiny, but still present, 70-year-old part of her that was grumbling 'I want to go back to bed', she slashed her wand through the air. But Snape wasn't an idiot, he was ready for her attack and she stumbled at his sudden Shield Charm. Not to be defeated, however, she turned her attention to the torches on the walls, and as she turned the flames of one of them into a huge ring of fire that made straight for Snape, she thought drily that fire was a good weapon to use against him, because he preferred the damp and the dark, rather like an Inferius or some Devil's Snare. She did feel a jolt of concern, however, as she hoped that Harry and Luna had had the sense to get out of the way.

Minerva had not duelled to this ferocity for a long time; although she had fought last summer, her opponents' skill had nowhere near matched hers, and they had been easy and quick to defeat. Snape had turned her fire into a gigantic snake, but Minerva barely had time to be scared of it; she swung up her wand arm fast and the next second it was just smoke, but she twirled her wand and each wisp of smoke became a dagger.

"_oppugno!" _She thought fiercely, flicking her wand at them; Minerva was not duelling to kill, exactly, but she wouldn't be bothered if Snape did die. She hadn't expected them to hit, he was too skilled for that, but she did allow herself a slight smirk as he had to hide behind a suit of armour like a child as the daggers flew at him.

"Minerva!" came a squeak from behind; she reeled round, knowing that it was Filius Flitwick but not willing to let her guard down. In spite of the situation she smiled slightly at the sight of her fellow Heads of House, her friends, racing down the corridor to come to her aid – even Horace Slughorn, whom she could not recall ever having seen run before.

"No!" Filius shouted in his high-pitched voice, his wand raised, "you'll do no more murder at Hogwarts!" He jabbed his wand at the suit of armour and Minerva watched with disappointment as Snape managed to escape it. He retaliated - however, it seemed to Minerva that he had realised he was outnumbered and was panicking slightly; the suit of armour did not hit them as he had intended, merely the wall a few feet away from them. In the split second they all watched it crash, Minerva noticed out of the corner of her eye a mass of black robes sprinting away - she ran full pelt after him, Filius and Pomona panting along beside her, but now he was jumping – he smashed through a window – for a moment she thought he might fall and finally get his come-uppance, but no – he flew like an overgrown bat towards the boundaries.

"Coward! COWARD!" Minerva heard herself screaming, as rage and frustration gushed up inside her. She had wanted to defeat him, to avenge Dumbledore, avenge her students – but he had gone, and it would be pointless to follow him; she needed to think of the school and the public enemy, rather than her private battle with her former colleague.

They stood around the window, breathing heavily, Minerva exercising most of her considerable amount of willpower to prevent herself from following Snape and concentrate on the task in hand. She heard running footsteps behind her and, despite her anger and worry, had to fight an urge to laugh as she realised that her colleagues did not know Harry and Luna were here – what a shock they were about to get!

The urge vanished as quickly as it had appeared, however, as she answered what she knew Harry was about to ask – "he jumped."

Filius and Pomona both shrieked at the sight of Harry but Minerva was watching him repeat her exact thought processes as he ran to the window, yelping "you mean he's _dead_?"

"No, he's not dead," she replied, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "Unlike Dumbledore, he was carrying a wand… and he seems to have learned a few tricks from his master." She added with disgust. She had known Voldemort must have trusted Snape for him to have succeeded in being a double agent for so many years, but this just proved that Snape was as close to Voldemort as anyone could be.

Minerva turned away from the window as she heard the unmistakable sounds of Horace catching up in his unfit state, and watched with amusement as he tried to take in everything that was happening, spluttering, "Harry! My dear boy… what a surprise… Minerva, do please explain… Severus… what…?"

"Our headmaster is taking a short break," Minerva replied drily, pointing to the window. _Bastard_, she thought, _cowardly, stinking – _but her inner venting was interrupted by a yell from Harry. She looked at him in alarm; he was gripping his forehead and had gone very white.

"Professor, we've got the barricade the school, he's coming now!"

She did not ask how he knew this; clearly Dumbledore's plan for him to learn Occlumency had failed, though she couldn't help but think that the connection seemed to be proving very useful this evening.

"Very well."

Minerva turned to her colleagues, her head clear and her blood pounding.

"He Who Must Not Be Named is coming," she informed them, ignoring their reactions. "Potter has work to do in the castle on Dumbledore's orders. We need to put in place every protection of which we are capable, while Potter does what he needs to do."

"You realise, of course, that nothing we do will be able to keep out You-Know-Who indefinitely?" Filius pointed out squeakily. Minerva opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by Pomona – "but we can hold him up."

"Thank you, Pomona," Minerva said, sharing a look with her and knowing they were both thinking the same thing – each would protect Hogwarts and its students until their dying breath, if they had to.

"I suggest we establish basic protection around the place, then gather our students and meet in the Great Hall. Most must be evacuated, though if any of those who are over-age wish to stay and fight, I think they ought to be given the chance." Minerva knew that efficiency was key to this battle, and fortunately, it was something she was very good at.

"Agreed. I shall meet you in the Great Hall in twenty minutes with my house," Pomona said, and Minerva felt a rush of affection for her friend as she saw that she was already hurrying to the door, muttering the names of plants that would be useful in battle and keen to get going with her role in the castle and students' protection.

As Filius began casting charms out of the window, Minerva saw Harry go up to talk to him and took the opportunity to have a think about what was ahead. She knew that she had to let those who were of age fight, but it was not what she wanted – if she had her way, they would all be going back to their families and staying out of the action. She was particularly worried about her Gryffindors; partly because they were her house but also because being the boldest students, they tended to take the most risks. However, they were, she reminded herself, perfectly capable of looking after themselves and had the right to fight for the triumph of good over evil. She told herself sternly that she must channel her efforts into the battle ahead – not spend the whole thing running around checking on students. Meanwhile, a battle plan needed to be established.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Minerva called to Filius that they would meet him and the Ravenclaws in the Great Hall and beckoned Harry and Luna to come with her. She needed to play her part in the protection and then send them off to the Great Hall to meet everyone else.

However, she was delayed by Horace, who was blustering about how dangerous it all was. She didn't have time for this; there was protection to be sorted out and a battle plan to decide, and so she replied sharply,

"I shall expect you and the Slytherins in the Great Hall in twenty minutes, also. If you wish to leave with your students, we shall not stop you. But if any of you attempt to sabotage our resistance, or take up arms against us within this castle, then, Horace, we duel to kill."

"Minerva!" he gasped, but she didn't care. She wasn't going to have anyone stand in her way; this battle needed to be fought and won, and she was proud to be in charge of the Hogwartians.

Her nostrils were flared as she replied, "the time has come for Slytherin house to decide upon its loyalties. Go and wake your students, Horace."

It was as if she were making up for lost time; all the frustration and powerlessness she had been feeling over the year were vanishing as quickly as if they were objects she could Vanish with her wand. Minerva McGonagall was a born leader and as she finally took control as she had wanted to all year, she was even more formidable than usual. She felt more alive than she had done for a long time as the adrenaline pumped through her and her mind was filled with ideas for how to fight the Death Eaters.

Now, however, she needed to summon up all her concentration for a spell she had never used, and had hoped she would never need to use. Although it was her first go, she was sure it would work; she had confidence in her own abilities, knowing she was a powerful witch without being arrogant about it.

She stopped in the middle of the corridor and raised her wand high, focusing her mind on what she wanted to happen – "_piertotum _– oh, for heaven's sake, Filch, not now -"

Minerva knew she was being sharp with him but, really, what a moment to interrupt her at!

"Students out of bed!" he was half-wheezing, half-shouting, "students in the corridors!"

It would have been funny were it not for the little time they had and the importance that she performed this spell.

"They're supposed to be, you blithering idiot! Now go and do something constructive! Find Peeves!"

This idea had just struck her upon seeing Filch; she remembered how Peeves had resisted Umbridge and knew that, despite his maddening attitude and incessant pranks, his loyalty lay with Hogwarts. He could be very helpful in this battle if he wanted to be, which she was sure he would – Peeves was not one to miss out on the action.

"P – Peeves?" Filch was stuttering. Minerva resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Yes, _Peeves_, you fool, _Peeves! _Haven't you been complaining about him for a quarter of a century? Go and fetch him, at once!"

Filch went grudgingly, muttering under his breath, but Minerva had already turned her attention back to the task in hand.

"And now," she cried impressively, "_piertotum locomotor!"_

It worked at once; every suit of armour and statue in the castle came to life, adding huge numbers to the army at her command.

"Hogwarts is threatened! Man the boundaries, protect us, do your duty to our school!" she spurred them on and they followed her instructions; issuing war cries they shuffled and marched downstairs towards the doors as fast as they could.

"Now, Potter, you and Miss Lovegood had better return to your friends and bring them to the Great Hall – I shall rouse the other Gryffindors."

Minerva headed to Gryffindor tower as fast as she could, thinking wryly that she had another battle to fight before the real one – her underage Gryffindors would not take kindly to being sent home. She decided not to tell them, yet, that some would be allowed to stay while others had to leave – time was running out to get to the Great Hall and she didn't want them holding her up with protestations; she might as well deal with theirs and any from the other houses at the same time.

Upon entering the common room, she roused the Prefects first and hurriedly explained to them what was happening. If they felt any shock, fear or excitement they did not show it but did as she asked them straight away, going round the other dormitories waking up the rest of the house. She waited in the common room, grateful to the Prefects for their reaction and proud of the students under her care.

They stumbled down the stairs, some rubbing bleary eyes, others looking wide awake and eager to know what was going on.

"Please follow me to the Great Hall," Minerva said, surveying them all with beady eyes to check that everyone was there, "He Who Must Not Be Named is about to invade the school, and we need to ensure your safety before we fight."

She glanced around the room again, noticing that although many of the older years seemed to be steeling themselves, a lot of the younger ones looked nothing short of terrified.

"Don't worry," she added gently, "as long as you follow my instructions, you will be evacuated quickly and safely. I'm not going to let any of you be harmed. Is that clear?"

She almost smiled as she noted the surprised and confused looks on some of their faces; although she was very fond of her students, it was rare for her to openly display this kind of protectiveness. A few people nodded.

"Good. In that case, off we go."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm not very pleased with myself; once again this chapter took much longer than I intended! It's a slightly shorter one as well, but it seemed like a good place to stop. As I'm writing this at half 3 in the morning I haven't actually checked if it's known whether the people I sent up to Gryffindor tower with Minerva actually went up there, and for this I hope you'll forgive me! They'll all be in the battle fairly soon anyway. Enjoy! L x**

Minerva hurried towards the Great Hall, perhaps a little too fast for some of the younger members of Gryffindor; she was tall for a witch and as a result took longer paces, but there was no time to slow down – the twenty minutes was almost up and her punctuality was vital if she was to command the trust and respect of what was, essentially, her army.

Soon they were entering the hall; the Gryffindor students went to sit down at their table and Minerva headed for the platform on which the teachers' table stood. She stepped up to the spot on which, for so many years, Dumbledore had stood, and surveyed the hall. Everyone was there – teachers, ghosts, students, members of the Order. Everyone looked tired and anxious, many looked frightened, but they were all either alertly watching her, waiting for her to speak, or talking urgently with friends and relations.

Minerva cleared her throat.

"Could I have your attention please?"

Everyone stopped talking at once and turned to listen as Minerva drew in a deep breath, quickly gathering her thoughts to make sure she phrased everything correctly.

"As many of you will already know, Lord Voldemort is currently on his way to Hogwarts and we suspect he will attack the school. It is, therefore, of the utmost importance that we send all those who will not be fighting to a place of safety. There is a passage from the castle that leads into a pub in Hogsmeade called the Hog's Head. It is through this that you will go – once in the pub you should be safe and from there your parents can collect you and take you home by Side-Along Apparition if possible. There is room in the inn for any who cannot get home. The Prefects have been briefed on where to find this passage, and they will be taking you there shortly."

She paused for a moment as she noticed Harry slip into the Hall and start to move along the wall next to the Gryffindor table. After sparing a moment to wonder what on earth he was doing – he'd said he had something to look for – she resumed her instructions.

"Evacuation will be overseen by Mr Filch and Madam Pomfrey. Prefects, when I give the word, you will organise your house and take your charges, in an orderly fashion, to the evacuation point."

She was about to ask if anyone had any questions, but Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff stood up before she got the chance. His question was exactly what she had been expecting – "and what if we want to stay and fight?"

Minerva could not help but feel a rush of pride for the bravery and loyalty of the students of Hogwarts, in all houses, as people applauded.

"If you are of age, you may stay."

Amazingly there were no contradictions to this, although Minerva did not doubt that she would have to watch closely to make sure that everyone who was meant to leave did so. Her eyes flickered to the Ravenclaw table as somebody else spoke up.

"What about our things? Our trunks, our owls?"

Minerva felt a bit bad about the answer she had to give to this; the bulk of most people's possessions came with them to Hogwarts and she knew that in one's youth the loss of possessions was a lot more worrying that it was in adulthood.

"We have no time to collect possessions. The important thing is to get you out of here safely."

She had no sooner finished speaking than there was another question, predictably from Slytherin: "Where's Professor Snape?"

Minerva did not see the point in beating about the bush about this; in fact she positively relished the idea of exposing Snape as the coward he was to the whole school.

"He has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk."

She had to prevent herself from smiling as the other three house tables cheered, but focused on the matter in hand, trying to stress to them how important it was to do this in an organised fashion.

"We have already placed protection around the castle, but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and do as your prefects -"

She broke off, a shiver running down her spine, as she was interrupted by a voice that seemed to pierce her very heart; it felt like ice. She looked around, but knew that he could not be inside the castle – he was clearly, however, very close. She listened carefully, trying to ignore the screams and gasps from other people, and then the silence that was every bit as bad as the screaming.

"I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."

It felt as if some sort of presence had left the hall as the voice stopped and the warmth returned; like a toned down version of the feeling when dementors left a place. Minerva looked around and realised that everyone was staring at Harry, who looked guilty and slightly shellshocked. Before she could intervene, however, there was a shout from the Slytherin table.

"But he's there! Potter's _there_! Someone grab him!"

It did not surprise Minerva that it was Pansy Parkinson who said this; she had always been a selfish girl and Minerva knew that she was part of Malfoy's gang, with whom Harry had shared a mutual hatred for all of his six years at the school. Yet again, before she got the chance to intervene, there was movement – although this time of a more positive sort.

As the students of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw glared at Pansy, wands raised, Minerva spoke, trying to keep her voice in check and not show her anger at Pansy or the emotion she felt at seeing the way the other houses had jumped to Harry's defence.

"Thank you Miss Parkinson. You will leave the Hall first with Mr Filch. If the rest of your house could follow."

Finally, the evacuation was beginning. As she called, "Ravenclaws, follow on!" Minerva felt a rush of adrenaline; the battle was near. This adrenaline was soon tainted, however, by annoyance as she realised that there were still a lot of underage students (mainly from Gryffindor, she noted proudly, in spite of herself) in their seats.

She bustled down from the platform, flapping her hands at some of the younger students who were friends of Harry's.

"Absolutely not, Creevey, go! _And_ you, Peakes!"

"But Professor -"

"Please -"

"We just want to help!"

"I appreciate that you want to stay and help your friends but it is simply not plausible; you have not learnt enough and it's far too dangerous. Now this is my final word on the matter; GO!"

They went, muttering and casting shifty glances over their shoulders to see whether she was still watching – which she was. Minerva admired their courage at such a young age, _but really, _she thought, _they wouldn't stand a chance against the Death Eaters. _

Lost in her thoughts about underage students trying to remain behind and fight, Minerva started slightly at the sound of her own name, realising that Kingsley was speaking and she hadn't been listening. Angry with herself, she turned around and gave him her full attention.

"…are going to take groups of fighters up to the three highest towers – Ravenclaw, Astronomy and Gryffindor – where they'll have a good overview, excellent positions from which to work spells. Meanwhile Remus, Arthur and I will take groups into the grounds. We'll need somebody to organise defence of the entrances of the passageways into the school -"

"-sounds like a job for us," Fred Weasley butted in, and Minerva allowed herself a small smirk – she had never thought she would see the day where Fred and George's knowledge of the secret passageways would be useful to the staff as opposed to a cause of great annoyance and frustration!

"All right, leaders up here and we'll divide up the troops!" Kingsley finished, and turned to talk to Remus.

Minerva started towards the platform but then noticed something: Harry was standing around at the Gryffindor table, looking slightly gormless – his mind was definitely elsewhere. She made a detour and rushed over to him.

"Potter, _aren't you supposed to be looking for something?"_

He blinked and looked at her, comprehension dawning.

"What? Oh! Oh yeah!"

"Then go, Potter, go!"

"Right – yeah -"

He turned on his heels and ran out of the hall, Minerva shaking her head slightly as she watched him go.

With Harry off on his task, it was time to turn her attention to hers. She finally reached the platform, where she was joined by Poppy Pomfrey, Molly Weasley, Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown and Cho Chang.

"Right," she said briskly, "we'll be going up to Gryffindor tower and firing spells at Death Eaters attempting to reach the castle. We'd better not start too early; wait until there's a fair few approaching – we don't want to draw too much attention to the fact we're up there, and if they're being showered with spells in a big group, it will be more confused and they'll be less sure where they came from. Any questions?"

"Professor, we won't be spending the whole battle up there, will we? I mean…" Dean trailed off, but Minerva knew what he was asking – he was in Gryffindor; it was only right that he should want to enter the duelling at some point.

"No, Mr Thomas, we shall rejoin the battle when it has mainly moved inside and we feel those downstairs will need our help."

"Good," he nodded, rolling up his sleeves. The others followed suit.

"Everyone ready?" asked Minerva, to a series of nods, "let's go."

She led her small, but able, group out of the Great Hall, heading back towards the Gryffindor common room. Everywhere she looked, people were rolling up their sleeves and drawing their wands, girls were tying their hair up and boys were flexing their muscles. They were preparing to fight, for good, for Hogwarts, for their families, for those they had loved and lost. _For Dumbledore_, she thought sadly, and she hoped that her dear, late friend was proud of her and of the students. She hoped that it had not hurt him too much to see what was happening to the school over the year. And she hoped, more than anything, that he would be able to witness from a portrait, a triumph of good over evil, light over dark, Hogwartians over Death Eaters, Harry over Voldemort.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Well, it's 3am again, and I'm going to regret this when my alarm goes off in 5 hours! However, I've really enjoyed writing this chapter, and it's covered quite a few events… The Scream will be in the next chapter! I wanted to get this up as quickly as possible because I wasn't very happy with chapter 5, it was a bit of an in-between chapter and this one's a lot more exciting. Again, thank you so much for your reviews and please keep going with them, they are my fic-writing fuel! L x**

The group entered the Gryffindor common room, looking around to make sure nobody else was there. There were quite a few things lying on the floor that people had clearly tried to bring with them but dropped – concerned, Minerva even saw a couple of wands there. Dean immediately grabbed one and answered her questioning look – "my wand was taken by Snatchers." She merely nodded at him, letting him know that she didn't mind him using the wand he had found.

Minerva led them over to the windows which overlooked the grounds, and they spread out equally. Lavender went to light the lamps, but Minerva stopped her; they would be easier to spot if the room behind them was light.

And so they waited. It didn't take long. Soon enough, there were figures just visible, moving along the darkened lawn. At first there were only a few, and they connected with other darkened figures which Minerva knew must be members of the Order – they could see flashes of light as spells flew and occasionally someone dropped to the ground.

However, soon there were too many for the Hogwartians out in the grounds to cope with. Minerva glanced at the others, who were staring out of the window, their faces set and determined.

"Fire!"

She took aim into a mass of Death Eaters and shot a few Stunners and jinxes at them, watching with satisfaction as they writhed and fell. On either side of her, the rest of her group were silently firing spells down at them as well, all of them non-verbally in order not to ruin anyone else's concentration. Dean and Lavender were hitting more than any of the others; in their youth, their eyesight was sharper and their reactions quicker.

Eventually, most of the moving figures had gone inside the castle, and the only people left outside were lying on the ground. Minerva felt a twinge of unease… how many were Death Eaters, and how many were their own friends and family? Were they just injured, or were they dead?

Poppy seemed to be thinking along the same lines, as she was the first to speak.

"Minerva, I need to go and tend to the injured…"

"Yes, we should all be joining the battle now… We've done as much as we can up here," Minerva agreed, "be careful, all of you," she added, glancing round her group and giving them a faint smile before turning and heading for the portrait hole.

They descended a couple of floors without meeting much trouble – it seemed the battle was still mainly downstairs, but even as they hurried to join their fellow Hogwartians, the volume of the battle increased and the castle began to shake slightly.

When they reached the third floor, they found the battle. Seamus Finnigan was battling a masked Death Eater not far away – he was duelling well, but the Death Eater was better. Minerva watched as Dean ran towards them and Disarmed the Death Eater, whom he had taken by surprise, with the borrowed wand. He triumphantly grabbed the Death Eater's wand – it was his, now, and would work better for him than the abandoned one.

Minerva wanted to help her students, who were battling hard, but she was distracted by the arrival of another Death Eater she did recognise – Rodolphus Lestrange.

With a snarl he raised his wand and jabbed it towards her – a jet of green light shot out of the end of it, but it was deflected by her quick shield charm. His eyes narrowed as he began to duel more fiercely, but he was no match for her – Minerva ducked and fired spells at him with admirable speed and agility, and soon he lay unconscious on the floor, with large welts all over his face.

However, while Minerva caught her breath – she still got chest pains occasionally from the four stunners she had received two years previously – somebody from behind her sent a curse flying past her, missing her by no more than an inch. She wheeled round, confronting another masked Death Eater. They began to duel, their wands slashing through the air like swords, until finally she hit him in the face with a full body bind. Unfortunately it was a second too late – he had already fired off a _reducto_ spell which smashed the glass window next to her – she felt a pain and then a hot wetness on her cheek as shards of glass flew everywhere.

However, a cut on the cheek was the least of her worries. As she looked around, checking that none of the Hogwartians had been seriously injured by the glass, she saw with a leap of horror that there were Death Eaters emerging on all sides, too many for the number of people there to deal with.

As she stood there, wondering whether to send for reinforcements, she had an idea. What they needed now was numbers… And although they may not have many people, there were certainly a lot of desks in her classroom – which was just around the corner.

Minerva turned on her heel and ran, faster than she had in years, full-pelt towards her classroom. As she was nearly there, however, she stopped in her tracks, hand on her heart as she heard a terrible noise: an explosion had taken place somewhere in the castle. She felt it shaking and after the noise had gone stood stock still for a minute, hoping and praying to every god she'd ever heard of that none of her side had been around where it had happened.

A distant shout brought her back to her senses and she pulled herself together: the desks. She covered the remaining distance to her classroom in no time at all, and leaping inside yelled, "_LOCOMOTOR DESKS_!"

They twitched and stirred, as if waking from a slumber. She pointed out of the door with her wand, saying "go!" This they did, cantering along like bizarrely shaped horses, while she ran flat-out behind them, guiding them back to the corridor full of Death Eaters. On her way, she thought she glimpsed a couple of people standing in the corridor out of the corner of her eye, but she was concentrating on the desks and no attack came, so she assumed they must have been Hogwartians. As she and her desks rounded the final corner she filled her lungs with as much air as she could and bellowed,

"CHARGE!"

As the desks galloped towards the Death Eaters, who looked round, stood for a moment, then attempted to scatter, Minerva finally allowed herself a couple of minutes' rest – she leant heavily against a wall, holding a hankerchief to her cheek and watching with satisfaction as more than one Death Eater was crushed by her herd of desks.

When the desks had finished doing their job, Minerva advanced in their wake, tying up the fallen Death Eaters, just to be sure. She then set off in the direction everyone else had gone – the fight seemed to be becoming more concentrated now, focused on the entrance hall and the first floor.

Minerva hurried down the final flight of stairs towards the first floor – the bangs and shouts of battle were becoming louder again and she was anxious to check on her comrades and help. But as she emerged from the staircase, she froze in horror as a dreadful sight met her eyes.

Lavender Brown was duelling Avery, when Bellatrix Lestrange (who was duelling Tonks next to them) let off a blast like a cannon from the end of her wand. Minerva watched, horrorstruck, as Lavender and Avery fell over the balcony, and Tonks was blasted backwards into a wall. She did not get up. Bellatrix laughed, a mad glint in her eye, then set off towards the stairs, apparently wanting to join the main battle in the entrance hall.

Minerva ran to the balcony and peered over the edge, just in time to hear a scream – "NO!" – followed by a bang. She watched as Fenrir Greyback was blasted away from a girl lying on the floor, Lavender Brown – for one heart-stopping moment Minerva thought she was dead, but no, she was stirring.

Minerva was just taking aim at Greyback, who was beginning to get to his feet again, when Sybill Trelawney suddenly appeared at her side, accompanied by a considerable number of crystal balls. Minerva watched in complete astonishment as she lobbed one over the balcony, smirking as it made contact with Greyback's head, and lifted another one out of her bag shouting, "I have more! More for any who want them! Here -"

As the next crystal ball plummeted down to the entrance hall, Minerva looked at her colleague with new-found respect.

"Well done, Sybill," she congratulated, patting her on the shoulder and turning away, heartened, to find some more Death Eaters to duel. However, she had not even moved two steps when she heard terrified screaming, and turned back to the balcony, looking down upon a horrible scene.

There were Acromantula streaming into the Entrance Hall, attacking both Death Eaters and Hogwartians. Minerva moved quickly towards the stairs, wanting to help, but as she reached the bottom she was cut off by Hagrid, who had come sprinting out from nowhere, pink umbrella aloft.

"Don't hurt 'em, don't hurt 'em!"

Minerva was actually very fond of Hagrid, and did not want to see him killed by his own 'friends', so she tried to grab the back of his moleskin overcoat. Apparently, he did not feel her attempts. She stopped and looked on, helpless, as he ploughed on and was carried away amidst all the spiders.

Suddenly, a very familiar, and apparently disembodied, voice shouted,

"HAGRID!"

With a jolt of fear, Minerva saw Harry emerge from thin air and start running after Hagrid. It was bad enough that they had taken Hagrid… She wouldn't let them get Harry as well…

"Harry!" she shouted, using his first name in her desperation to stop him, but her efforts were futile – he had run out of the entrance hall, and she spotted Ron and Hermione running after him. Hermione, she was sure, would stop him chasing the Acromantula. Leaving the task to the student who was so like her, Minerva turned her attention back to the battle raging around her, which had resumed in full force since the spiders left.

George Weasley was duelling Dolohov a short way from her, and not doing very well. He seemed distracted and looked as if he were duelling more out of self-defence than trying to attack. Minerva decided to intervene – creeping up behind them (she knew it was not proper manners to curse someone behind their back, but really, this was war) she shot a Stunner straight into the back of his head.

"Mr Weasley?" she asked, quite gently, for George was just standing there, looking dejected.

"What?" he jumped slightly. This was very uncharacteristic…

"Are you all right? Where's Fred?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment a spell hit the balcony above them; part of it crumbled away and they were forced to dart out of the way to avoid the bits of falling rubble. Minerva looked around and saw Bellatrix, taking aim at the balcony again. With a shout of "oh no, you don't!" she ran towards her, raising her wand. Bellatrix turned to her and they duelled, their wands blurs, their eyes nowhere but each other as each concentrated on trying to do the other as much damage as they could.

Although Minerva shot spell after spell at Bellatrix, every hex, jinx and curse she could think of, Bellatrix was too quick. The duel went on and on, Minerva's skill almost equal to that of Dumbledore's, Bellatrix's that of Voldemort. Minerva was practically grinding her teeth in frustration as Bellatrix laughed and pranced around, dodging her spells and returning her own jets of green light, so that Minerva was also forced to do stupid dance-like moves to avoid them.

Suddenly, Bellatrix wheeled around – it appeared Kingsley had sent a jinx at her from behind. As she began to duel with him instead, Minerva raised her wand to outnumber Bellatrix, but was stopped by somebody barging past her, almost knocking it out of her hand. It was Percy Weasley, his face contorted with fury, sprinting towards another duelling pair – Bill Weasley and Lucius Malfoy. It seemed Lucius Malfoy was determined to kill, and Percy wasn't having any of it.

Minerva had just raised her wand again, but then froze, along with everyone else in the room – Death Eaters and Hogwartians alike – for the high, cold voice that could only belong to Voldemort had just started to speak again.

"You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful -"

Minerva barely sustained a snort at this. 'Merciful' was one word that could certainly not be used to describe Voldemort, although she could think of many others that could…

"I command my forces to retreat, immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured. I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman and child you has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Minerva stood there, her heart pounding, more scared than she had been at any point that night. Around her, Death Eaters were leaving the castle, people were murmuring with relief, tiredness and grief, the injured were being helped into the Great Hall, and people were talking about retrieving the dead.

And still she stood there. She knew what this meant. She knew that at this moment, Harry would be feeling absolutely terrible, taking Voldemort's words to heart. She knew that he would be considering giving himself up… She could only hope that Ron and Hermione would stop him…

She was drawn from her thoughts by a hand on her shoulder.

"Minerva?" It was Pomona Spout. "Are you injured?"

"No, I'm fine," she replied firmly to her friend, deliberately not meeting her eyes, instead looking past her into the Great Hall.

"Well that cut looks pretty nasty… At least come and put something on it…"

"I'm fine, Pomona!" she said, perhaps more sharply than intended.

"Go and see to your house," she added, "they need you. I myself must go and check on my Gryffindors."

For although for a moment she had been caught up in worry about Harry, she was now beginning to feel uneasy about her whole house. There were too many bodies in the hall… Too many badly injured.

Minerva moved through the Great Hall, as shock after shock hit her. Fred Weasley… Remus Lupin… Nymphadora Tonks…. She pushed her grief away; there would be time to succumb to it later. For now, her students needed her.

She spotted Neville Longbottom bringing in bodies from the grounds and patted him on the shoulder as she passed; she was prouder of him than she'd ever believed possible. Moving around the room, she spoke to Dean and Seamus, both of whom were tired and battleworn, but otherwise all right. She sat with Lavender for a while, dabbing at her wounds with the potion Poppy had given her, until Parvati Patil and Sybill turned up and asked to relieve her.

Minerva stood up and walked towards where some ex-Gryffindor Quidditch team members were grouped together, looking weary, but she stopped dead halfway towards them.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had just entered the hall. While Ron and Hermione went straight to the Weasleys, Harry remained in the doorway. He was staring at Remus and Tonks' bodies… The expression on his face was pure pain, guilt and sadness. He had paled considerably. All of a sudden, he stumbled back from the doorway, turned, and ran towards the staircase.

Minerva started towards the door, worry coursing through her – what if he handed himself over to Voldemort?

Suddenly, though, she felt arms around her waist, preventing her from moving.

"Minerva, you can't follow him…."

"Poppy, I will not let him walk to his death! We'll keep fighting; we'll find a way -"

"Minerva, I don't think he's going to his death. You-Know-Who is in the Forbidden Forest… Harry is going in the opposite direction. He probably just needs some time to come to terms with all this… It can't be easy for him."

Minerva felt herself sag slightly in Poppy's arms, then turned round and hugged her friend.

"You're right," she mumbled, sniffing and blinking back tears, "I'm just scared…"

This was very out of character for her, but she knew Poppy wouldn't mind – they'd been friends for years and Poppy had seen her in a much worse state than this – admittedly only once or twice, but it had happened.

"We all are, Minerva. We all are." She whispered in reply.

The two women stood there, grieving, their arms around each other, like so many other pairs of friends, family, couples, peers and colleagues in the room. None of them knew for sure what would happen next, but it seemed that there could only be one outcome – they had lost too many and suffered too much. Despairing, tired and wounded, the Hogwartians, Minerva included, were losing hope as they sat around in what had once been their sanctuary. Nobody noticed the solitary figure who gazed into the Hall for a second, then resolutely turned and set out into the night, alone.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I am so, so, sorry for how long it's taken me to write this chapter! I've been massively busy and distracted with getting results and sorting out university and stuff (got into my first choice, yay!), but I am now BACK and I promise to write chapter 8 quicker! I think chapter 8 will be the last chapter that's in the book, but there will be more :) as always, please continue to review because reviews really do mean so much to me! One final thing before I stop rambling and let you get on with reading it… I promised I'd dedicate this chapter to a friend who's been reading the entire way through and has given me loads of constructive feedback, so this one's for Josh! I'd also like to give a special mention SailorSea who has reviewed like 3 chapters, thank you very much. Much love to all of my reviewers and readers! Writing wouldn't be nearly as fun if I didn't know you guys liked it :D right, sentimentality over… On with the story!**

The atmosphere in the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had never been so subdued. The middle of the Hall was lined with bodies, the platform with the injured lying on stretchers. Around the edges, people slumped against each other, grieving.

Minerva finally extricated herself from Poppy's arms, thanking her for her support with a sad smile. As her friend bustled back towards the wounded, Minerva headed over to the Weasley family. It was about time she paid her respects.

"Molly…" She said gently, kneeling down beside a distraught Mrs Weasley, "I'm so sorry about Fred. He will never be forgotten… He and George have made a mark upon this school that will never fade."

She glanced at George, who gave her a grateful, albeit rather forced, smile.

Molly merely rocked back and forth a bit, still sobbing, before launching herself upon Minerva's neck. Slightly surprised, and desperately wishing she could do something to lessen her pain, Minerva patted her on the back and conjured a hankerchief for her.

"There, there, Molly" she murmured, passing her the hankerchief and receiving a muffled thanks.

After a few minutes, Minerva decided to leave Molly to her family; she didn't want to intrude on their grief. Standing up, with a final pat on Molly's shoulder, she looked around the Hall.

It was very quiet. Nobody was moving very much except those who were helping the injured. As Minerva scanned the room, she noticed one couple in particular. The red-headed boy sat apart from his family, tear tracks still glistening on his cheeks but with a numb sort of expression on his face, his arm around the bushy-haired girl who was crying softly into his shoulder. Minerva hesitated, wondering whether to go and talk to them. Again, she didn't want to intrude, but she'd always got on very well with Hermione and they might know where Harry was…

Her mind made up, she walked over to them. Ron gave Hermione a little nudge as she approached; they both looked up, Hermione wiping her eyes. Minerva was about to ask if they'd seen Harry, but, rather worryingly, Hermione beat her to it.

"Professor, do you know where Harry's gone? We haven't seen him for nearly an hour…"

Minerva's insides squirmed slightly. It seemed very odd that Harry hadn't told them where he was going; the three of them were usually inseparable.

"I was about to ask you the same question, Miss Granger. What happened just before you three arrived here? Did Potter find whatever it was he was looking for?" They had been later than the others and Minerva hadn't seen much of them in the fighting so they'd clearly been searching the whole time.

"Yes, we found it fairly quickly," Hermione answered, "but then we needed to see You-Know-Who's snake, so we went to where he was and…"

She seemed unable to finish; the memory of whatever had happened was clearly either too painful or too gruesome for her to recall. Or both, Minerva thought with a slight shudder. She gave Hermione's shoulder a small squeeze, telling her wordlessly that she didn't have to continue, and looked enquiringly at Ron to see whether he would.

"It wasn't very pretty," he said, looking slightly nauseous. "Professor, Snape's dead, You-Know-Who's snake killed him. That's what we saw. Then… We're not really sure why, but while he was dying Harry went in to see him and we followed and he gave Harry a load of memories… We think he took them up to the Pensieve but that was a while ago…"

"Thank you for telling me, Mr Weasley," Minerva said quietly, "that is odd… Snape always kept himself to himself, he was very protective of his privacy… I can't understand why he would give his memories to Potter, of all people!"

"That's what we thought too," agreed Hermione, while Ron nodded.

The three of them lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Minerva was utterly bewildered, and getting really rather worried about Harry now. It was an hour since he'd last been seen; surely those memories couldn't be taking this long? She could tell his two best friends were thinking the same thing.

"Well," she said finally, standing up, "the hour is up; the battle will begin again shortly. I'd better go and confer with the other Heads of House. Let me know if you hear anything, won't you?" She asked her two students, both of whom looked as on edge as she felt. They nodded silently; she turned and made her way over to where Pomona and Filius were sitting.

"Time for another battle plan?" Pomona asked, smiling weakly.

"Yes," replied Minerva, who knew that the first thing they needed to do was sort out who was still fit to fight and make sure they all had wands, "I think we'd better -"

But it was with a feeling of dread that she was interrupted by Voldemort's high, cold voice. And this time his words did more than pierce her heart – they broke it.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."

Dimly, in the back of her numb mind, Minerva thought angrily that he was lying – Harry would never have run away. But she didn't think any more; she didn't react yet – she felt compelled to keep listening.

"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle, now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live, and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

The speech ended; the Hall was filled with silence. For a full minute nobody moved. Random images were chasing each other round Minerva's brain… All the times she'd thought Harry was dead but he wasn't, Harry just didn't die, he got seriously injured, but he didn't die, he was the Boy Who Lived, he couldn't have died… She saw him as a baby, lying in Hagrid's arms with a cut on his forehead – as a first year, in the hospital wing after his first fight with Voldemort, when they weren't sure he would make it – entering her office, covered in blood and slime and clutching none other than Godric Gryffindor's sword – falling from a broomstick when Dementors swarmed onto the Quidditch pitch – arriving back outside the maze hanging onto the Triwizard cup and Cedric Diggory's dead body and not moving… She had really thought he was dead that time, she had been so scared... It couldn't be true this time, it couldn't…

But as these images flashed up in her mind's eye, something brought her back to the present, words Voldemort had said – "we bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."

She had to see him. She had to see for herself because it couldn't be true, it would just be a trap to lure them outside, but she didn't care, she just needed to know.

She turned on her heel and began to run towards the doors of the Great Hall. Her movement roused others from their horrified silence; they murmured to each other, began to follow her – a couple shouted her name, but she ignored them.

Minerva ran out onto the steps and stopped dead, panting, squinting towards Hagrid, who stood out even more than usual because he was clearly sobbing. And in his arms… In his arms…

"NO!"

The scream came out before she could stop it, and she found she didn't care, because the grief was unbearable, because she couldn't bear to see him lying there, his mouth slightly open, his head lolling over Hagrid's arm, bits of twigs and leaves in James' hair and Lily's eyes closed forever…

Minerva staggered slightly and leant against the wall beside her. It was like losing Lily and James all over again. She could vaguely hear Bellatrix Lestrange laughing, other screams echoing hers, but she was numb with shock and grief. The crowd around her were making a lot of noise, but she felt detached from it.

A few moments later, however, she jumped as Voldemort screamed,

"SILENCE!"

All around her people were rendered speechless, but she had not been trying to speak. However, under all her sadness, she felt a familiar twinge of anger at Voldemort's treatment of them. The phrase 'who died and made you boss' was horribly ironic at that moment.

"It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

Minerva felt another surge of grief wash over her as she watched Hagrid, his whole body heaving with sobs, gently place Harry down on the floor.

But the anger was still there; she didn't feel completely despondent and incapable of reacting anymore. Voldemort was speaking again, and she felt even more furious at the lies he was coming out with.

"Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

She was on the verge of gesticulating, seeing as they were all unable to speak, but then, amazingly, Ron Weasley shouted, "he beat you!"

Suddenly, everyone could speak again – they resumed their cries of hatred and shouts of abuse – Minerva joined in, and Voldemort looked stunned, and maybe there was hope after all….

But then he silenced them again; Minerva grasped her throat as her voice was suddenly cut off mid-shout while Voldemort continued his lying tale.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds, killed while trying to save himself -"

Most people's eyes were on Voldemort, their expressions the utmost disgust at his lies, but Minerva, along with a few others, had noticed a slight disturbance in the crowd – someone was fighting their way to the front. With a jolt, she saw Neville Longbottom emerge and start running towards Voldemort, his expression determined. _Not Neville as well… _She thought, holding her breath as a bang issued from Voldemort's wand.

With relief, Minerva saw that he had only Disarmed him, and watched, half fearfully, half approvingly as Neville tried to get up.

"And who is this?" Voldemort asked, "who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

Minerva was scared now; she had already lost a few of her Gryffindors, and each loss had been like another stab in the chest… Neville was so loyal, so brave; he, of all people, did not deserve to die.

Bellatrix was laughing again… Minerva felt that familiar surge of hatred towards her as she replied, "it is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

Minerva didn't like how much Voldemort seemed to be enjoying himself; this calmness of his, this pretence to want to treat them well, was more unnerving than his anger.

"Ah yes, I remember," he was saying, and Minerva was struck by a strong urge to immobilise Neville, who looked as if he was going to try and fight without a wand. However, she mastered it; Neville was of age and if he wanted to take these kinds of risks, she couldn't stop him. Besides, she was actually quite proud of him.

"But you are a pure-blood, aren't you, my brave boy?"

There were nods of fierce approval from around Minerva as Neville replied, "so what if I am?" with a defiance worthy of Harry. Minerva felt a stab of pain as she was reminded of him, and glanced towards his body, which lay, as motionless as ever, just behind Voldemort.

"You show spirit, and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over. Dumbledore's Army!"

A tear sprung to Minerva's eye as the crowd cheered back because of the way they, and particularly Neville, were unwaveringly standing up for what was right. However, she blinked it away – now was not the time to be sentimental.

"Very well. If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head be it."

Suddenly the crowd was tense and silent again, even though there was no silencing charm on them. Minerva's fear returned in full force and, by the expressions of those around her, she was not the only one to be scared.

There was the sound of glass smashing and a few people jumped. Minerva watched, sadly, as the Sorting Hat zoomed towards Voldemort, who caught it. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had last placed that hat on a student's head, in the warmth and cheerful atmosphere of the Great Hall during the Welcome Feast.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School. There will be no more houses. The emblem, shield and colours of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone, won't they, Neville Longbottom?"

Minerva watched with a mounting feeling of foreboding as Voldemort immobilised Neville and forced the hat onto his head.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," Voldemort continued and turned his wand upon Neville.

Minerva and the rest of the crowd watched, horrified, as the hat set on fire. As one, they all started forward as Neville began to scream – Minerva raised the wand that she had been holding limply at her side ever since the news of Harry's death – but then she stopped, looking towards the boundaries, hardly daring to believe it as people she was sure were allied climbed over the walls and charged towards them. The only giant on their side appeared around the edge of the castle and the other giants began fighting him. Centaurs were shooting arrows at the Death Eaters.

Minerva was turning her head this way and that, not sure where to look now that there was so much going on, when she caught sight of a gleam of silver out of the corner of her eye. Neville had just pulled a sword – Godric Gryffindor's, unless she was very much mistaken – out of the hat and drawn it back, ready to strike. She stared, transfixed, as he brought the sword slashing through the air and sliced off Voldemort's snake's head.

She wasn't sure why he had done it, presumably an act of resistance – but it had worked. She felt fired up, ready to fight again, and the rest of the crowd were drawing their wands. The Hogwartians had got their courage and their will to fight back.

As she turned towards the Death Eaters, Minerva heard Hagrid bellow, "HARRY! HARRY – WHERE'S HARRY?"

She glanced around; it did indeed appear that Harry's body had disappeared. But before Minerva had time to ponder over this, or feel any kind of emotion, an enormous foot loomed out of nowhere and she was forced to dive out of its way to avoid being trampled. She hurried, along with the others, back towards the Entrance Hall, shooting curses at Death Eaters as she went.

The Hogwartians were winning; Minerva felt exhilarated as she battled her way through the Entrance Hall. A little way away, she saw Voldemort sending green jets of light at students… Parvati had a very near miss, and Minerva made a very brave, but rather foolish decision – she would not let him kill any more of her Gryffindors. She hurried through the crowd, following Voldemort as he backed into the Great Hall, still firing off spells at all the Hogwartians he could see.

Minerva moved around a Death Eater who was being hacked at by House Elves and came face to face with Voldemort. Both raised their wands and began to duel – Minerva deflected many of his spells with shield charms and dodged a few others, but she was so busy defending herself that she wasn't getting any time to attack…

Suddenly she was joined by Kingsley and Slughorn. Feeling relieved at the support, she managed to send a couple of curses Voldemort's way, but he swatted them away as easily as if they were flies. Minerva was so engrossed in her battle that although she heard the yell – "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" – she didn't look round; for Voldemort hadn't, and if she took her eyes off him she would almost certainly pay for it with her life.

Vaguely Minerva registered that people were standing around the edges of the Hall, watching the battle – she felt a twinge of her old annoyance – why weren't they doing something productive?

She, Kingsley and Slughorn continued to fight Voldmort, but in vain; he was just too good. But suddenly, there was uproar from the crowd – all four of them turned to see what had happened.

The next thing Minerva knew, she was flying through the air, Kingsley and Slughorn too; none of them flew far enough to hit the wall but they hit the floor with a bang and skidded along it slightly to the gasping crowd, the nearest of whom hurried forwards to help.

Minerva's entire body ached and she knew she would feel this more later on (assuming she lived long enough), but nothing seemed to be broken and she shook off the people helping her up with a brisk, "I'm fine."

She looked back to the centre of the hall and her heart skipped a beat as she saw Voldemort turn his wand upon Molly Weasley. But before anyone had time to act, a voice yelled "_Protego!"_

Everyone was looking around, confused, but Minerva was once again numb with shock. For she was sure she recognised that voice… It couldn't be, she'd seen his body herself…

It was. As the crowd looked on in complete disbelief, Harry Potter appeared, as per usual, from thin air, in the middle of the Hall.

He was alive. Suddenly Minerva did not care that Voldemort was still there, that they were all still in danger – the crowd around her were shouting, reacting, but she stood there, speechless, motionless, except for one thing – her face cracked into a broad smile very rarely seen on Minerva McGonagall's face. For although there was still danger, Harry was alive. When it had seemed impossible, he was alive. He had evaded death AGAIN, he was still fighting for them, and as she looked at him staring furiously at Voldemort in the middle of the Hall, it felt like she had come back to life too. Harry's reappearance had brought back the hope of victory; before, it had merely been a will to carry on the fight, without anyone daring to believe that they could win, just wanting to resist as much as possible.

But it was more than hope for Minerva – Harry's reappearance had lightened her grief, because after all the losses of people she loved she'd suffered already, she'd thought there'd been another one. But there hadn't. And it was this, more than anything, that was making her smile, despite not knowing what the next few minutes, hours or days would hold.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: The final chapter that's in the actual book! I feel like this chapter ended a bit abruptly but I wasn't sure how else to end it… There will be another one, possibly more; I'll just see where it takes me. Huge thanks again to everyone who reviewed, subscribed and favourited! Please continue to R&R! L x**

Minerva watched as Harry and Voldemort began to circle each other. She could feel goosebumps rising and, given the way the people around her were rubbing at their arms and shuddering, she wasn't the only one. The amount of magic in the atmosphere had increased tenfold as the darkest wizard of all time and The Boy Who Lived prepared for what everyone instinctively knew would be their final showdown. This would determine who won the war.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help. It's got to be like this. It's got to be me." Harry spoke clearly, his eyes fixed on Voldemort.

Minerva glanced around the Hall; nobody looked surprised, although a few looked worried – she noticed Molly Weasley relaxing her grip on her wand slightly, looking tense.

"Potter doesn't mean that," Voldemort was spitting, "that isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

Minerva felt a rush of pride for Harry as he looked impassively at Voldemort and replied, "Nobody." However, his next words doused all her other emotions with a mixture of horror, revulsion and dawning comprehension.

"There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good…"

So Voldemort had made Horcruxes. It seemed so obvious to Minerva now… She knew what they were, although the idea of them had always repulsed her. That was why Dumbledore had been leaving the school to go; why Harry and his friends had left after his death. And by the sounds of it, they'd destroyed them all…

"One of us? You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

Voldemort was sneering at Harry, whose calmness was beginning to slip; Minerva could see his eyes flashing even from her position next to the wall. She shivered slightly.

"Accident was it, when my mother died to save me? Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"

"_Accidents! _Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and snivelled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

Harry was gripping his wand tighter and somehow seemed to be taller… His eyes were boring into Voldemort's, and they showed no fear, only hatred, anger and determination. He was reminding Minerva forcefully of Dumbledore, giving off that sense of power that her best friend used to when people crossed the line, and she thought that Voldemort looked slightly unnerved by it. Suddenly, she realised she wasn't as scared any more. It seemed so strange to her; she could still remember Harry the day he arrived at Hogwarts, small and shy and with so much still to learn. Now here he stood, facing He Who Must Not Be Named and, it seemed, in control. She couldn't help but feel protected; she knew everyone around her felt the same way. It was the way they used to feel when Dumbledore was around.

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," Harry was saying, "you won't be able to kill any of them, ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you hurting these people -"

"But you did not!"

"- I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

If the atmosphere hadn't been so tense, if she hadn't been concentrating wholly on listening to what was being said, Minerva would have gasped with surprise at Harry addressing Voldemort as 'Riddle'. As it was, she barely had time to appreciate, with a rush of affection for him, that Harry had tried to sacrifice himself to save them all.

"_You dare –", _Voldemort spat.

"Yes, I dare." Dimly Minerva thought that of course he dared; he was in Gryffindor, after all. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

Minerva stared, transfixed, at the pair circling each other in the centre of the Hall. She and everyone around her were hanging on their every word.

"Is it love again? Dumbledore's favourite solution, _love, _which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the Tower and breaking like an old waxwork? _Love_, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter – and nobody seems to love you enough to run forwards this time, and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"

Unwanted tears had gathered in Minerva's eyes at these words; Dumbledore had been her best friend and Lily one of her favourite students. It hurt her, and made her angry, to hear Voldemort talk about their deaths in such an offhand, jeering way. She blinked rapidly.

"Just one thing," Harry replied. He had not even flinched at the mentions of Dumbledore and his mother; Minerva couldn't help but admire the way that he remained so supremely calm when even she was having trouble disguising her emotions.

"If it is not love that will save you this time, you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both."

Voldemort was laughing; Minerva could feel the hairs rising on the back of her neck at the sound. He sounded mad. Was it too much to hope that he was perhaps getting desperate?

"You think _you _know more magic than I do? Than _I, _Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it. But knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."

"You mean he was weak! Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No, he was cleverer than you. A better wizard, a better man."

Minerva's spirits couldn't help but lift a little upon hearing Harry defending Dumbledore, punctuated by a hint of curiosity – she was one of very, very few people who knew the truth about Dumbledore's past; he had told her many years ago shortly after she started teaching, in her own classroom. But how had Harry found out?

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"

"You thought you did. But you were wrong."

There was a sharp intake of breath from the whole crowd, Minerva included. She didn't take her eyes off Harry and Voldemort though; didn't pause in her concentration on their conversation to think about it. She needed to hear this.

"_Dumbledore is dead! _His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter and he will not return!"

Half-nauseated, half-furious at the fact that Voldemort had clearly broken into Dumbledore's tomb, Minerva glanced anxiously at Harry for his reaction to this. She was surprised to see that he didn't seem fazed.

"Yes, Dumbledore's dead, but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

Minerva did not even hear Voldemort's reply to this; she was too shocked. Dumbledore had known he was going to die… Why hadn't he told her? She was supposed to be his closest friend, other than Elphias Doge. Had he known? Surely he would have told the Order? She felt slightly hurt that Dumbledore had kept this secret from her; allowed it to come as a shock... With an enormous effort, she dragged herself back to the present, desperate to hear more.

"Severus Snape wasn't yours," Harry was saying, "Snape was Dumbledore's. Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realised it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle? Snape's Patronus was a doe. The same as my mother's because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realised. He asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

Minerva's mind was reeling. Dumbledore had chosen how to die… Snape had been in love with Lily… Their Patronus' had been the same… So _that _was why Dumbledore had trusted him, because love had made him change sides, and Dumbledore trusted love more than anything. Minerva felt a horrible surge of guilt as she recalled her duel with him. And now he was dead…

"He desired her, that was all. But when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him -"

"Of course he told you that," there was a hint of impatience in Harry's voice now, "but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"

Minerva couldn't take many more surprises. She recalled vaguely how she had arrived in Dumbledore's office two summers ago when she was back from visiting her brothers to find him with a blackened, dead-looking hand. She remembered how vague he had been when she had asked him about it… "I'll be fine, Minerva," he had said airily, before changing the subject. But obviously this was why he'd been dying. He'd lied to her… She knew he'd had his reasons, but it would take her a while to accept it.

"It matters not! It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great _love_! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!"

Minerva felt a grim pleasure at the fact that Voldemort seemed to be becoming increasingly desperate… Harry was definitely unnerving him.

"Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got ahead of you, little boy – I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"

Everyone's heads snapped back to Harry. Minerva was amazed to see that he still looked unconcerned.

"Yeah it did. You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done… Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle…"

"What is this?" Minerva barely registered Voldemort's surprise, she was fixated on Harry's words, because she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing… Although, she mused, if she could believe this of anyone, it would be Harry…

"It's your one last chance. It's all you've got left… I've seen what you'll become otherwise… Be a man… Try… Try for some remorse…"

Minerva had never been so proud of Harry. She didn't think he realised quite how good, how noble, he really was. Nobody else in this room would have offered Voldemort a second chance like this – and nobody else's lives had been as deeply affected as Harry's by him.

"You dare -?"

"Yes, I dare, because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle."

More revelations… Minerva marvelled at how much Harry knew; how he could look Voldemort in the eye and explain it to him so calmly.

"That wand isn't working properly for you, because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."

"He killed -"

"Aren't you listening? _Snape never beat Dumbledore! _Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand! I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"

Minerva couldn't believe how idiotic Voldemort was being; she understood what Harry was saying – but she was much older and wiser than Harry. She couldn't help but be impressed that Harry understood it.

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? _The wand chooses the wizard…_ the Elder Wand recognised a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realising exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance… The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

Minerva's hand flew to her mouth to suppress a gasp. She now remembered Harry telling her and a few others in the hospital wing a year ago, how Malfoy had Disarmed Dumbledore. It hadn't occurred to her before now just how important a fact that was. To her amazement, she felt a twinge of regret that Snape had been killed unnecessarily.

"But what does it matter?" Voldemort's voice was soft and dangerous again; Minerva eyed him warily as he spoke. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: we duel on skill alone… and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…"

"But you're too late. You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."

Minerva, along with everyone else, looked at the wand. She realised, now, that she didn't recognise it, and she wondered dimly how Harry had lost his wand, but she was too busy listening to dwell on it.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" Minerva could see people straining to hear him, and felt immensely grateful for her own impeccable hearing. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does… I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

It all happened very suddenly. Minerva's hand went to her heart; next to her, Filius gasped as Harry and Voldemort both sprung into action at once, their wands flying up to point at each other's faces:

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Everyone jumped at the bang, and Minerva watched, holding her breath, as Voldemort's wand soared towards Harry… He caught it…. She looked back to Voldemort, hardly daring to believe her eyes as he fell. Everyone remained silent for a moment. Voldemort didn't get up.

And suddenly everyone was shouting; people were jumping up and down, punching the air, hugging each other. Molly Weasley and Poppy Pomfrey were both sobbing uncontrollably. Pomona Sprout appeared and hugged Minerva, who laughed as her friend shouted that it was over in her ear and cried into her shoulder.

People were beginning to converge on Harry; not wanting to be left out of the celebrations, Minerva and Pomona hurried over as well and joined the people who were already screaming words they couldn't hear with joy, crying and laughing at the same time, hugging each other and trying to hug Harry.

Minerva too reached towards him, wanting to touch him – she still couldn't quite believe he was alive, that he'd won. There were people all around trying to do the same and she was pleased but surprised when he beamed at her and gave her a brief hug, which she, uncharacteristically, returned enthusiastically. When Harry turned to wring Filius' hand, she took the opportunity to wipe away a tear.

However, Minerva now needed to think about returning Hogwarts to some sort of order. The big clean up would, of course, happen after most people had returned home, but for now she thought everyone needed some food and a sit down.

With difficulty, Minerva pushed her way back through the crowd. Having finally emerged, she straightened her glasses and made a beeline for the entrance to the kitchens, around which the house elves were standing, watching the celebrations, unsure whether they should start clearing up. They bowed as one as she approached.

"I think we could all do with some breakfast!" she said brightly, her eyes wandering over the house elves, some of whom bore cuts and bruises. "Those of you who are injured must see Madam Pomfrey when she is available… I order you only to help prepare breakfast if you are fit enough," she added sternly, ignoring the surprised looks and the grateful thank yous, "and after breakfast you must all rest. Tidying up the castle can wait until it is less crowded. You played an important part in the final battle… Thank you."

They bowed even lower, then turned towards the kitchens. Minerva headed into the Great Hall, which was beginning to fill up with people. With a wave of her wand, she returned the house tables to their positions and moved up to the staff table, sinking wearily into the seat she ought to have occupied all year.

She looked around the hall, and the atmosphere was so different to the last time she had been in here. People were chattering and laughing, the sun was shining in through the windows and, as she watched, a magnificent array of breakfast dishes appeared on the tables. Although tired, Minerva could not help but feel momentarily content. Grief would come, as would pain from her injuries and exhaustion from the nights events, and there was much hard work to be done, restoring the castle to its usual state. But for now, Voldemort was dead, and this breakfast time of celebration was a respite from the worry and sorrow. She only wished that those brave Hogwartians who had died fighting and had never seen Voldemort defeated could be here to share it.


End file.
